


A Name to do as I Please

by Inay



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Amarth - Freeform, Other, The Phoenix - Freeform, Transgender, blood elf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inay/pseuds/Inay
Summary: Amarth, in her young years, choose to trade her birth name for power, and to be free of it.
Kudos: 2





	A Name to do as I Please

_ Amarth knew one thing. It's that as long as 'Aranel' would be bound to her soul and essence, she could never truly be Amarth, no matter how careful Rae and Sal were to never use the wrong name, no matter the little silence in her mother's voice when she even refused to hesitate. _

_ Amarth knew another thing, that most guess but few understand. Names have power.  _

_ 'Aranel' had been given to her at birth, making her a person of her own. It had been worn and loved, said so often in the voice of those who held her dear, yelled in anger and frustration, whispered with delight and mischief. It was a good name.  _

_ She would not waste it. _

  
  


_ It had been a month since she left Sal's apartment, leaving her brother behind. (He was happy, they both were. She was glad of that, even if it was strange to not have Rae's blond mane around as before.) Minn'da had come around, accepting that indeed her second progeny was a daughter; Ann'da never had much trouble with it. Life was back to... Normality, or as similar as it could. But there was a name that was hers, and was not, and it was a Problem. _

\------ 

_ She kissed goodbye to the two men before being swept into a hug by Rae, smiled and promised to be at the library tomorrow to study the alchemy. Of course she would be careful going back, come on, home was only a spell away! "Ah, but you're my little sister, I have a duty to worry," "We're the same age!" she had protested.  _

_ She smiled and smiled until it was truly time to go, and she told them nothing of her plans.  _

_ When the young woman reappeared, it was on a dark hill outside of Silvermoon and not in her own home. She singsongs under her breath as she makes her way toward the grove she had found.  _

_ Most of her time in the Great library of Silvermoon were to study alchemy of course, a way to change her body so it would suit her soul. But she had studied a few other things when Rae was busy with work or his pretty lord, deals and trades, and names given by accident or stolen; summons under the moonlight and away from the Sun's gaze. _

_ She had studied, and she had a plan.  _

_ Amarth arrives in the small grove, still left untouched by rangers or visitors since she left it, and places her bag on the ground. She had a night and she was ready.  _

_ The young mage takes arcane dust and candles, a prayer and as many precautions as she could.  _

_ Amarth Reddawn was many things, but certainly not a careless fool. _

_ She traces lines and circles, runes of binding, wards of protection. And more importantly, she writes an invitation. _

_ The ground of the clearing is quickly covered, and Amarth sits in one of the two circles at the center. Crossing her legs, she hesitates. Perhaps she should have told _ someone  _ of her plans, perhaps it was more of a risk than a young mage should tackle alone. Perhaps she had been wrong.  _

_ But she was many things, and certainly not a coward.  _

_ Amarth chants, opening for a moment the door between her world and another, weakening the boundaries to let one denizen of fire enter. All runes flare and glow like embers in the night, the survival of an inferno, and they appear.  _

_ The creature is less than imposing at first. They stand comfortably into the second circle, not even a large trail of feathers, wings folded on their back. They are black and red, like a log in which fire still burns, visible through the cracks, and they are looking at her.  _

_ Amarth places her hands on her knees, affecting a calm she doesn't feel, her heart in her throat. She inclines politely her head, the exact degree as her Mother taught her, as she has seen Sal' do when he is actually polite, as Rae does with more of a smile. _

"I have invited you here to make a deal." 

_ The phoenix opens their wings, and the world becomes flames. _

_ \------ _

_ “And what do you want little elf?”  _ _  
_ _ The voice was roaring inferno and crackling of logs, who would have thought fire could make such noises?  _

_ “Knowledge and flames,” she answered, her voice not trembling despite the fear. There was nothing around them but gold and crimson and roar. “Give me your knowledge of the flames, fire in my veins. Give me your nature and to be ever reborn, and I’ll pay you with a name.”  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ An eye opens in the chaos, sanguine red pierced by a sharp pupil. “A name?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “My name. I have worn it for a hundred years, it was whispered and screamed, said gently and not. It’s a powerful name with the shape of my soul, and I’ll give it to you, to be forever yours. It is my name, given to me, to do as I please, and I’ll trade it with you.”  _

_ The chaos never grows less confusing, colors interwoven, purple and a blue so hot she winces and wants to remove hands she doesn’t have. They were only presences, and hers was so small and elven. Alive.  _ _  
_ _ Pulses of white burn through her, leaving invisible scorch marks behind.  _

_ The red eye turns toward her. “I will take your name to be mine and shape my wings. It’ll burn quickly and greatly. Nevermore will you find it on your tongue, nevermore to be yours. And I’ll give you fire.” _

_ The red eye closes. “This is a deal.”  _

_ \------- _

_ When Amarth kissed her brother the following day, her hands were warm and flames danced easily at her fingertips; and she knew fire as intimately as one knows a lover’s embrace.  _

_ When she closed her eyes, she saw again the blue eyes of the phoenix, and the vibrant gold of his feathers.  _


End file.
